


Don't Give Me Up

by ThePinkFizz



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, captain america: the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Clint Barton is kinda an ass, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pining Bucky Barnes, Trauma, Traumatic Injury, but still an amazing friend, douchy Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7266613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePinkFizz/pseuds/ThePinkFizz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Buchanan Barnes decided he was in love with his best friend...the day he decided to marry someone else. Based off of the movie My Best Friend's Wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello avid readers! Brand new story for ya! This is one of my longer stories, based off of one of my favorite movies. It will follow the plotline somewhat, for those of you familiar with the film. I (sadly) own none of these characters and have no rights to the movie. This story is just for your entertainmet. Feel free to comment, I do love your guys' feedback :) And as always if you do not like this paring/ship then do not read it. Enjoy!

It had been a long day. Chefs had been hurdling around a kitchen, snapping at each other, trying to make the dish especially perfect. They had all gazed through the porthole of the kitchen door as the dish was delivered to the table and he clicked the pen, taking a bite. "I'm writing it up as...inventive." Being a renowned food critic had it perks, hey free food, but it also meant a lot of time away from home. He threw his bags down on the floor of his apartment and looked out at the Chicago skyline, sighing. He looked down at the answering machine, the red light blinking statically. He scrubbed his face, pushing a lock of raven hair behind an ear and pressed the play button. Most of the messages were boring, uninteresting drabble, some from his publisher Clint, the rest junk. But there was one message that caught his attention as he flopped onto the bed.  _ "Hi gorgeous. I know you might be busy and we haven't talked in like forever but I need to hear your voice. Four in the morning or whatever, call me."  _ Bucky sighed, Steve's voice was enough to make him melt. He and Steve Rogers had been best friends for nine years, and they had a pact that if they were both 28 and unmarried, that they would take each other's hand. Buck's 28th birthday was in four days...his heart began to beat with anticipation at what Steve might have to say. He picked up the phone and dialed the number. He held his breath as he waited for the voice on the other side of the line.  _"Hi..."_ "Hey Stevie, I know it's late but you wanted me to give you a ring..." Steve laughed.  _"No no no it's fine. I wasn't sleeping anyway."_ Bucky smiled at the thought of Steve sitting swathed in moonlight with only the sound of his own voice.  _"So you been busy? I've been trying to reach you for like forever." _ "I've actually been out on a book tour."  _"Look at you, fancy pants food critic."_ Bucky ran a hand through his unruly hair. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"  _"Mostly I just wanted to hear your voice again-"_ Buck's heart was pounding,  _"but I also wanted to ask you something..."_ This was it, moment of truth. It was on the tip of his tongue. "Yes," he blurted out. Steve laughed once more,  _ "I haven't even asked the question!"  _ "Sorry..." Bucky began to pace anxiously, like a caged dog.  _"Buck, will you be my best man?"_ It felt like a ton of bricks had been dumped on him. "What?!"  _"Well, you've been...unavailable...and...I've met someone...we're getting married on Sunday...look I know it's short notice and all..."_ He was feeling woozy. He raked a hand through his dark locks once more, "m-married...Steve..." He sat back, meaning to find the bed but slipped off the edge onto the floor. He clawed a hand into the bedsheets, pulling himself up, phone jammed into his shoulder, "Steve I don't know...I'm not a party kind of guy..."  _"C'mon you have to be there! You're my best friend! You'll love everyone, trust me!"_ He was silent for a while. "Ok...for you Stevie." 

.....…….….……….......................................

"I don't think I can do this, Clint," Bucky prattled anxiously to the other man who's eyes were glued to the busy road. He was wringing his hands nervously as the car inched forward in the busy parking lot of the airport. Clint's eyes flickered over to him momentarily, "so just out of nowhere he calls you and wants you to fly to New York?" "Yes..." Buck started once more, massaging his furrowed brow. He honestly didn't know how to feel about all of this, the whole situation was a ginormous clusterfuck. He was feeling nervous and anxious and scared and angry and jealous and salty but also happy and excited all at once and he knew that Clint was just about ready to shove him out the door and say 'have a nice time, sucker!' His fingers were trembling as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and put one between his teeth and tongue, rolling it around. He lit up a flame before igniting the cherry and took a long drag before he blew the smoke out through his nose. Clint's eyes flickered over to him, "I thought you were gonna quit." "I was," he said dryly. "Then at least crack a god damn window, don't want that stink in my car." Clint braked and leaned over him, rolling the window down with the crank. He leaned his arm onto the beveled edge of the window and tapped the cartridge out of it before taking another long drag. The Audi stopped abruptly, and Clint pushed the door open. Bucky sighed, stepping out and extinguishing his cigarette underneath the toe of his shoe before he pulled his leather duffel off the backseat. "Have fun, sweetheart," Clint drawled in a deadpan voice. Bucky crouched in front of the passenger side window and gave Clint his best bitch face before promptly extending his middle finger. "You know you love me," Clint smirked, batting his eyelashes. The raven rolled his eyes and let go of the car door, taking one step closer to seeing the man for which he yearned just to hear his voice, but somehow, he felt uneasy as he dug his boarding pass out of his bag and got into line.

..............................................................

He felt like a stupid idiot standing near the gate, stretching up onto his toes to try and see through the crowd of people. And suddenly, like a scene in a movie, he saw Steve. A ray of sun broke through one of the skylights and swathed the other man in golden light. A ridiculously huge smile broke across his face as he watched him, but then the blond man disappeared. Bucky sighed, beginning his search all over again. He turned to look over his shoulder, and when he turned back he ran straight into someone. "I'm sorry, I'm-" Blue eyes were sparkling in front of him and a smile graced their owner's lips. "Hi Bucky," Steve removed his hands from the other's shoulders to pull him into a tight embrace. An elated sigh escaped him at the feeling of the blond's body against his own. It was everything that he remembered; tight, corded muscle, milky Irish skin, and a scent that reminded him of the cedar woods they used to hike through. But their blissful moment was short-lived when a deep-throated voice, "well, this must be James!" Bucky internally cringed at the name, how he hated it. There were only two people he let call him that; his mother, and Steve. A tall man who stood just a little under Steve's height with dark hair and a little silver in his beard appeared. The man took Bucky's hand firmly, pulling him into a hug, clapping him on the back. He pulled back, running his hands down the grey jacket on Buck's arms. "All I've  _ heard  _ since Steve said you were coming is Bucky did this and Bucky did that. It's lovely to meet you." Bucky swallowed thickly, "yeah, uh...great'a meet'cha too..." In the back of his mind he was reeling;  ** this  ** is who his Stevie was marrying?! He couldn't believe it! This pompous little dickwad...Bucky could practically smell the money coming off the other man, maybe he bathed in it. "Buck, this is Tony. I'm so  _ excited  _ that you're finally meeting each other!" Steve shook his fiancé's arm happily, a grin breaking across his perfect face. Bucky got lost in the sheer blueness of Steve's eyes for a moment before he nodded, rubbing his arm absentmindedly. "Ooh, I almost forgot," Tony piped up, "I have an appointment for you at the tux shop." 

"Oh nononono," Bucky began, waving his hands. "C'mon, it'll be fun!" Steve grabbed him by the arm and he was soon sitting in the passenger seat of the brunette's BMW, which was currently squealing as it weaved in and out of the lanes of the busy highway. Buck took a sharp breath in through his nose and wrapped his fingers around the side of the convertible. He shoved some raven hair out of his eyes, casting a terrified look over his shoulder at the blond who only smiled and gave him a thumbs up. "How great is this?" Tony chipped in, "having Stevie's best friend here just for  _ our  _ wedding!" He gave Steve an elated smile and Bucky was almost tempted to grab the steering wheel in order to keep the car in its lane. "Yeah, 'ts really sommthing, huh?" Bucky look down at his shoes, feeling incredibly out of place. "Oh, my exit!" Tony shouted, pointing as he veered right, tires squelching as he made the exit with a fanfare of blaring horns and burning rubber. 

...............................................................

He must have visibly cringed upon arrival to the boutique, because Steve only laughed and gave him a slap on the back. "It's the best in New York," the blond continued laughing.  _And the most expensive_ ,  he thought. Tony must have known the shop owner well, they were shaking hands and laughing with each other. The redhead smiled at Bucky, encouraging him to come closer. "Come, come. I won't bite, promise." She turned him around, taking a good look at him before she took a tape measure out of the breast pocket of her sleek black pantsuit. She stretched his arms out, taking measurement here and there. His muscles twinged and he shifted uncomfortably when she took the measurements of the inseam of his thigh. She had him go and change, handing him a garment bag with a hella expensive Armani inside. He stood there, back to the door, with the bag draped over his arm as he stared at the expanse of the room. God, he probably could've parked his whole apartment in it. Soon he was standing awkwardly on the pedestal with the seamstress behind him, hemming the bottom of the charcoal pants. He ran his hands over the crisp white shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles in the lavender vest. He was staring down at it for such a long time that Tony, who had been sitting on one of the ottomans admiring the seamstress' handiwork, spoke up, "would you prefer the daffodil?" He gestured for the seamstress to go get it when Bucky's head snapped up. "Oh, well, I...uh...it's just..." Tony held his hand up, indicating that it was ok. Bucky started to get down off the platform, "y'know maybe it's just better if you talk to Steve about this, I mean it's your-" there was a loud tearing noise and he looked down to see the seam along his left leg had split wide open. "Wedding." He sighed audibly, trudging off to the dressing room. "See if we have another pair on hand," Tony spoke to the seamstress, who scuttled off to the front of the store. Once he was in the dressing room, he stripped off the pants and the vest and the shirt and all of the expensiveness that made his skin crawl and just stood in his boxers. He idled for a moment, unsure of what to do, staring at his reflection in the mirror; tall, thin, lean muscles, left arm covered from shoulder to just about the wrist bone with a tattoo of wires and metal plates with a red star on his shoulder. He suddenly dove for his pants, fishing his phone out and dialing up Clint's number. "C'mon, pick up...pick up..." He got the answering machine and started ranting to it. Clint, who was sitting at his table with a bunch of dinner guests, turned slightly in his chair to stare at the machine. He sighed at the sound of Bucky's distraught voice,  _ "ohmigod, you won't believe this guy! It's an absolute joke, he wrong, all wrong! But y'know, Steve's all shits and grins about it, high as a fuckin' kite. You were right, this was a horrible mistake, why am I even here?! God, I feel like JarJar, nobody likes me here!!!"  _ Bucky stopped mid-rant when he heard the door open and turned, clutching his phone to his chest with a stupid grin on his face. Steve was holding another pair of pants in his arms, and Buck could've sworn that the blond was admiring the curve of his ass through the tight black fabric covering it. "Hi-hi..." He was suddenly nervous, and fumbled for his jacket laying on a chair and rumpled it around before holding it up by his armpits in defeat. Steve smirked, setting the pants down on top of the bureau, still giving the raven-haired man a queer grin. Steve slapped his hand to his forehead, "I almost forgot; there's this huge get together at the hotel with everyone. Get dressed ok, I'll be back in a minute." Steve was just about to shut the door when he looked back into the room and locked eyes with the other man, "and Buck, you look good." The door closed and a stupid grin spread across Bucky's face as he raised his phone to his ear, still staring at the door, "Clint...he's toast." 

...............................................................


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky begins to feel unsure about being there for Steve and has a very unpleasant conversation with Tony. But he does spend some time with Steve, and wishes Steve only knew how he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this one's a little shorter, but y'know one was a preface and all. The chapters will be varrying in their degrees of length, but I put a lot of time into writing them all, so I really hope you enjoy them! On with the fic!

Bucky was trying to ease the tension he felt about riding with Tony, who was quite possibly the most reckless driver he had ever ridden with, by laughing about his and Steve's former relationship. "Steve and I were a wrong fit right from the start." Tony, who stopped the BMW at the valet in a squealing stop and turned off the ignition, spoke unfazed, "he said that." Bucky's lip curled at the comment as he pried himself out of the car. He had been clinging to the side of the convertible all during the ride from the boutique to the hotel where this little shindig was and, when Tony wasn't looking, tried to rub out the finger marks in the upholstery where he had been digging in the tips of his fingers. They began waking toward the elevator, and Tony was carrying on about the honeymoon and how they were going to spend it stateside, for Steve's sake, "it's his career, I'm supportive." The elevator dings and the pair enters, with Bucky shrugging nonchalantly. "All I'm saying is it takes one man in a billion to put up with his shit. He's a one man show of idiosyncrasy." He shoved his hands in his back pockets. "Oh, and I hope you've been introduced to the symphonic range of his-" "Snoring!" Tony cut in, the pair laughing. "He says that it's worse than ever, you know that snarfall one?" Tony gestures to his throat and Bucky nods, knowing _exactly_ which one. It had kept him up for three nights in a row once and he had finally had enough and shoved Steve clear out of the bed. Bucky imitated the offending noise, which sounded like a series of gravelly pig snorts. Tony laughed slightly, "no it's got this kind of phlegm rattling now." He began obnoxiously imitating the noise as more people boarded the elevator and Bucky pushed himself as far into the corner as he would go, hands gripping the rails a little too tightly. Bucky shoved his aviators up higher on the bridge of his nose, praying to God that Tony would stop soon. The older man stops with his busted engine noises, but starts up with something even worse; bitching about Steve. "He-he likes action movies, wears Reeboks to dinner...he likes karaoke bars for god's sake and I can't carry a tune." Bucky pulls away his shades, tucking them inside his jacket, "really." Tony points to his teeth, "and he sucks soup through his front teeth-" Bucky raises a hand, "ah, that's a trademark. Don't touch that one." Tony stops, trailing his fingers down his chin slowly, looking far off into the distance, "but he sure can kiss." Bucky shuffles his weight around in the crowded elevator and laughs uncomfortably, "y'know it's been awhile. I'm jus gonna take yer word on that." The elevator dings and everybody but the raven and the brunet get off. Tony suddenly turns serious, "after two weeks of cataloging all of his faults I made a command decision that would change my life." He crossed the elevator in a few short strides and pressed the emergency stop. "I threw the list away. He's not a balance sheet, he's Steve. And loving him means loving _all_ of him." Bucky began breathing heavily, almost panting. He rakes a hand through his hair, his voice shaking as he spoke, "do you get nervous in small, confined spaces?" Tony kept going as Bucky began to pace. "You become hysterical!" He lunged for the release, but Tony stepped in his path, "but there's just one thing standing in the way-you. You'll always be, in his mind, this perfect creature he loved for all those years." Bucky blew out a breath, turning into the corner of the elevator, forehead pressed against the wall, "well, perfection can get wearing after a while." Tony laughed, as if this were all a game, "I'm not kidding..." He kept up his drabble, but Bucky's mind began to blur, his hearing muffled, vision fuzzy. He pushes back some dark hair as he paces, trying to calm down as he is met with wall after wall. Tony's voice cut through his haze, "you win." He slowly turned his head, looking confused into brown eyes, "I think I've missed a step." The other man shrugged, unabashed, "he's got you on a pedestal and me in his arms." Bucky leapt for the emergency stop at this point, yanking it out as the penthouse light appeared and the elevator doors snapped open. He stumbled and fell ass over teacup straight into a silver platter of hors d'oeuvres, collapsing on the floor, staring up at two annoyingly high-pitched voices. "My god," one said, "it's the bride and the man he'll never live up to." They pulled him up off the floor and he was suddenly shaking hands with them. "Bucky Barnes." The girl took his hand and shook back, "we'd be the vengeful sluts." She looked to a curly blond and Tony scoffed as he walked past, rolling his eyes, "but just call us Wanda and Pietro. 'Kay, hon?" She patted his cheek, and the two took his arms, walking him forward, yammering on about picking out members of the wedding party to fuck, who was fair game and who was off limits; apparently a Brit with pink hair, when a voice cut in, "is this Stephen's James?" "Yes," Bucky answered, exasperated. A woman appeared, gently taking his hand in both of hers, "Pepper Potts. What I've heard scarcely did you justice, son. Now," she started, leading him away from the twins, "my associates tell me that we should scooch you over to the ballpark so you can hang out with Stephen," the corners of Bucky's mouth twitched slightly, "but first...you have to meet a lot of really old women." Bucky laughed; a combination of dryness and nervousness and feeling completely and utterly stupid. "That is," Pepper continued, "if you've absorbed enough profanity."

............................................................... There was a lot of yelling going on, cheering and booing as the game continued, and Steve, who had his elbow propped up on the armrest supporting his head, looked less than thrilled. Until he heard a voice, "heard you gents ordered a beer?" His head snapped up and he turned quickly in his chair to see Bucky, balancing a tray with Dodgers cups on one hand. Steve stood up suddenly, his eyes skirting over the other man; he bit his lip ever so slightly at the way Buck's tight shirt hugged the defined muscles that strained against it, the way his jeans hung low on his hip bones, exposing his navel when he stretched, and how the wind would caress the curves of his face and pull at his hair which hung loosely above his shoulders. All Bucky could do was give Steve one of the coyest smiles he could muster. The way the blond was looking at him, drinking in the sight before him, it all but made him half-hard, right then and there. He began handing off the beers as he walked, eyes still trained on Steve's. The blond must have figured he needed an excuse to be distracted, for he started prattling on, introducing the guys he was seated with. They started talking about how the best man had to dance with _somebody_ when Steve piped up, " _dance?_ You don't know _how_ to dance!" Bucky threw him a smug look, rolling his hips while still masterfully balancing the drink tray, "I've got moves you've never _seen_ before." Some of the guys wolf-whistled. "You imposter!" Steve yelled playfully, jumping to his feet and approaching Bucky as he set the tray down, "what'd you do with my best friend?" A forlorn look flashed across his face for a moment as he pressed his hands to the small of his back, staring at Steve, "I'm still your best friend. You just haven't seen me in a while."

............................................................... They're standing at the railing, looking down onto the field, Steve with his back to it, Bucky with his elbows balanced on top. The conversation had casually (not really) slipped to Tony, Buck commenting about how _that_ kind of perfection might get boring after a while. He was hoping that Steve would be in agreement with him, that they would laugh hysterically about the pitiful state of that man and how royally fucked Steve was. But when he sighed and laughed lightly about how Tony wasn't boring, how he could never get tired of the other man, Bucky's heart dropped into his gut. The overwhelming amounts of hurt and guilt and sadness bloomed like a rose, the throbbing ache of thrones stabbing into every inch of him, consuming him for a moment. "He lets me hold him as long as I want," Steve muses, looking off absentmindedly. Bucky shifted uncomfortably, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the cement. "What?" Steve turned his cerulean gaze to him, a little concern softening the edges. "Nothing..." He replied, pushing away a lock of raven hair. "Right," Steve started, "I forgot...you and that...yucky love stuff." A small fire of dissatisfaction begins to rumble in Bucky's stomach and he turns to look at Steve with disbelief. "I'm-I'm not the guy I once was." But Steve snorts with his own doubts about that and looks back down at the game, ignoring the man beside him. Heat creeps up the back of Bucky's neck, seeping into his face. He clenches and unclenches his fists, pushing away windswept hair, desperate to regain Steve's attention. "This is not about longevity, Stephen," the blond turns at the sound of his full name, and not the pet names he's used to from Buck. "This is about...being comfortable..." Their mismatched blues lock, "with the yucky love stuff." But Steve looks away and becomes interested in the game again. He held back an irritated screech. Clint would tell him he was acting like a five year old. Good! He wanted to act like a baby. He wanted to get all pissy about this. He was _trying_ to tell Steve how he felt, and Steve was _ignoring_ him. He wrapped his hand tightly around Steve's arm, his hip bumping the blond's. He took his greys and bored them into Steve's blues, "and I am." And Steve actually cracked a smile. ...............................................................


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to exact revenge on Tony, which essentailly backfires. He gets to spend some alone time with Steve, and oversteps a little. Steve gets mad, and Bucky begins to question if he should even be there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping up on this just for you guys! Hope you're still liking it!

They walked into the bar, Steve and Bucky laughing hysterically with each other, and Tony was waking several paces behind them, not even entering at the same time. The whole place was bathed in pinkish light with blue screens of scrolling lyrics. There was a guy standing far off rocking the mic and Steve smiled in awe, "karaoke! Where'd you find this place?" He turned excitedly to Bucky, who shrugged nonchalantly, "the door man told me. Now you, old man," he shoved Steve playfully, "are singing _the_ song!" Tony is glancing around uncomfortably, terribly out of place as Steve and Bucky find a table. They were sitting, the blond and the raven completely immersed in their own conversation. They clapped for the end of the song, Steve even letting out an excited little whoop. Bucky held back a sneer as he grabbed Tony's hand from across the table, offering him almost blatantly fake condolence, "I didn't realize this was a karaoke bar." The brunet nodded vigorously, smiling queerly as he tugged at his suit jacket. "This is great," Steve exclaimed excitedly, "my two best guys!" A waitress walked over and spared them all from Steve's sappy speech when she inquired about drinks. Steve and Bucky, holding each other's wrists, pointing at the opposite, told her exactly how each other liked their margarita. Tony meekly puts in his order over their arduous laughing, desperate to be heard over their reminiscing. Bucky cracked an inside joke to Steve and the pair began to laugh madly while Tony just stared at them, a bit of disbelief painted across his face. Bucky had been talking about _that one hot night_ in Italy, and Tony leaned forward across the table, trying to interject into the seemingly intimate conversation, "I _love_ Florence." He nodded, acknowledging his own thought. "The pier is for fishing!" Steve yelled, attempting an Italian accent. _"French kissing?!"_ Bucky bantered back. "Fishing!" Steve yelled, slapping Buck's thigh. "You know, I've _always_ loved Florence," Tony spoke up, leaning forward on his elbows as Bucky's attention was drawn away from the blond. His laughing subsided and his smile slowly faded as he pushed back an unruly strand of dark hair, clearing his throat, "well, Steve, you should take him there." He sounded a little forlorn as he spoke, turning his gaze to somewhere other than their suddenly uncomfortable table conversation. A lady behind their table turned around and tried to give Tony the mic, "have at it red," she said somewhat slurred, acknowledging the color of Tony's jacket. He tried to politely refuse and Steve playfully argued with him about it, encouraging him to try. "C'mon for me babe!" Bucky smacked Steve on the shoulder, chiding him, "he doesn't have to if he doesn't want to. Look he doesn't want to." He took the mic a little roughly from the brunet and put on a booming voice from deep in his belly, "ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for the dazzling vocal styles of... _mister Anthony Stark_!" He smirked and collapsed back into the leather booth as he handed the microphone off to a mortified Tony. The brunet stood up slowly, almost toppling his chair, his hands shaking as he began a nervous and extremely off key version of "I just don't know what to do with myself." It was off to a rough start, Tony's knuckles turning white from griping the mic so tightly, his eyes locked on the lyrics, unsure of the worlds. He would occasionally glance down at Steve, who was just staring at his fiancé with complete and utter adoration. Some people were yelling and booing, bantering choruses of "shut up" "you suck" and other colorful phrases. Steve's gaze hardened a little, but when he looked at Tony, a smile broke across his face like the sun across a field. Tony's voice broke with a laugh and some people started cheering as he became more confident. Tony started swaying, getting into the music a little more, he began singing to Steve, and _only to Steve_. The malicious smile on Bucky's face fades as he looks at Tony straddling the blond's lap with disbelief. Tony finished the song breathlessly, setting the mic on the table before throwing his arms around Steve's neck and kissing him passionately as the crowd whooped and cheered. Bucky looked away, shoving hair out of his face again as he stretched his arms over the back of the booth and looked off.

............................................................... They had walked out the bar, Tony on Steve's arm, giggling about the performance and that it was "actually a little fun". Bucky was walking on the other side of Steve with his hands shoved into his pockets, a scowl plastered across his face. Tony hails a cab and climbs in, telling Steve how Pepper's mother is having this dinner for him that he _just had to be at_. Bucky unjammed his hands from his pockets, holding the cab door as he slid in, "I'd babysit you," he said to Steve, "but currently my loyalty is to the bride, y'know, in her time of need." He was enjoying the slightly annoyed look on Tony's face and the crestfallen one on Steve's. "Well, it's not really _my time of need_..." Tony had no more than uttered the words under his breath before Bucky had leapt out of the cab, slapping the door shut and stuffing his hands back into his pockets with a cheery, "if you're sure." But, this little detour involved Steve leaning over the cab window to kiss Tony. Bucky was kicking himself and he was visibly grinding his teeth. He pulled out his hands and crossed his arms. If he had only sucked it up and gone with Tony to this whiny party then there would've been no way for Steve to kiss Tony. Well, unless Steve had leaned over him, but that would just have been awkward. "Have fun!" Bucky yelled after the cab in mocking friendship. He turned to see Steve's gaze on him. "So what now?"

............................................................... They were sitting on the subway stairs eating chili dogs in the dark, which was only lit by dingy yellow light. But it illuminated the hard curves of Steve's face perfectly. Bucky took this stolen time to admire the sharp curve of Steve's jawline, and how dark his eyes looked in this murky light. "You must've been pretty shocked when I told you, huh?" Steve turned his gaze over to him, referring to the phone call about the wedding. Bucky shrugged. _Shocked_ didn't even come close. Maybe _horrified_ was a better word. But instead of saying what he was thinking, the raven only shrugged and spoke with his mouth stuffed with relish and processed meat, "a little..." He took a moment to chew, "a lot...I fell off the bed." Steve chuckled, smiling as he looked straight into Bucky's eyes, chewing in the side of his mouth. "Well that explains the thump." That's when Steve asked the _wrong_ question. He asked what Bucky thought of his fiancé. He laughed it off, rubbing his neck, spewing some line about how the guy's great because Steve's looking at him expectantly with these big blue puppy dog eyes. Well, what's he _supposed_ to say? I hate his guts, think he's an airhead, came here to sabotage your wedding so I could then steal you back ooh and jump your bones. Oh yeah, that'd go over _real_ well. "So...what does Tony think of your career? Y'know, as a _sports writer_." Steve took another bite of his chili dog and looked at Bucky as he swallowed, "whaddya mean?" Bucky swallowed thickly; he didn't like Steve's tone but him being _stupid_ and everything, pressed forward. "Well, just like doesn't his family want you to be part of their little company?" Steve shrugged, "his parents died when he was young." "Oh...well what about Tony then? Doesn't he want you to be his little business buddy so he can give you blow-jobs under your desk?" Steve's entire face flushed tomato red and Bucky had to admit that maybe he'd overstepped there. Steve's expression hardened instantly, "he would _never_ make me. Never even." His voice had taken up a defensive tone as he looked sternly at Bucky, "you don't know him!" Steve got up abruptly, whipping his wrapper into the nearest trash can as he stalked off, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Steve! Steve-ok-pl-please, Steve!" He slumped back against the stairs, wrapping his arms around his middle, trying to force a smile, but he just couldn't. His lips twisted down into a terrible frown as a painful ache flared up in his chest. Maybe Clint was right, maybe he should've just left the past in the past. ...............................................................


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's struggling to be there for Steve after their fight, and it's really getting to him. He begins to plant the seeds of doubt with Tony in the hopes of sabotaging the engagment. But things don't exactly go as Bucky had hoped. He calls a little preoccupied Clint when he needs advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this one's a bit of a downer, but the next chapter is better, I promise! Just keep going! :)

He let out an exhausted breath as he trailed lazily behind Tony. They were in the china section of this god forsaken department store and had spent nearly two hours deciding between fork patterns. Bucky flipped glossy catalogue pages in a fit of annoyance, his elbows on the counter as Tony rambled aimlessly to the shop girl. He rolled his eyes as they giggled, little high laughs bubbling up like champagne. He wondered why he was even here, he's wasn't even a _bridesmaid_. Shouldn't he have been spending quality time with Steve? Ah, no. Steve hadn't returned a single call or text message since that night in the subway. Bucky grit his teeth with annoyance as they moved on to the next department and Tony began looking at drapes. He had his hands jammed into the abysses of his pockets, and before he could stop himself, blurted out, "so what does Pepper think of Steve's job? I mean, Christ, you're all successful what, billionaires, and he's some mangy little sportswriter? Wouldn't it just be easier for everyone if he joined the family business?" It should have pained the younger man to be giving his best friend such gripe, yet he felt no remorse in the moment as he fumed openly about the career. Tony let go of a satin drapery, "well...that's just the sort of thing we've talked about, Pepper and I." Bucky raised an eyebrow at the statement, but Tony just laughed dryly, "Steve would never go for it. We've discussed the matter before...he didn't take it well." "Well, what if Pepper talked to him? Told him how great an asset to the company he could be? Something that screams public relations, y'know?" Bucky was speaking absentmindedly now, running his fingers through the golden tassels of some hideous window treatment. He wasn't _intentionally_ saying these things, but there was a part of him, deep down, that wanted to fuck up this entire engagement and run off into the sunset with Steve. And the other part of him wanted a stiff drink and to fall facedown into his pillow and just cry. But his brain switched itself to autopilot, and the drabble just overflowed from his lips. "Tell him it's only for a little while. Tell him to do it for you. Beg him to do it for you. At the end of...six months he'll be happy, settled, successful." He turned his steely gaze to Tony, who was looking at him with a newfound admiration. "You're absolutely right. Why should my own happiness be put on hold because of his stupid career? It's not like he even makes that much money...and...don't even get me started on the bad food and his miserable friends..." Tony's rant started with a little spark that grew into raging wildfire. He was pacing back and forth, throwing up his hands as Bucky leaned back against a wall with the most malicious smile on his face.

............................................................... Bucky and Tony had discussed this plan over coffee in the café of Stark Tower before the brunet had walked off to talk to Pepper, who was seated in the lounge. Bucky watched from afar, sipping his black brew, which probably mirrored his soul at the current moment. Tony was going to pitch this gem of a plan to Steve over dinner, and Bucky was filled with just the slightest bit of anticipation at the though of watching his evil scheme unfold. He kept checking his watch as the cab left him off at the restaurant. He was late, for sure. They had decided upon seven thirty. It was now eight fifteen. He walked in and found them quickly, taking long strides to get to the table quilter. Steve stood up suddenly, pulling Bucky into a tight hug. He pulled back, holding him at arms length, "you look incredible, Buck." The raven grinned sheepishly, noticing the way Tony's shoulders shuffled with annoyance at the way Steve's eyes raked over Bucky imploringly. He had found one of his nicer jackets and even a tie buried in his bag and had slicked his dark hair back. He had to say he didn't look half bad; he could scrape together a bit of class if he really tried. He wasn't all Brooklyn gutter trash. Tony cleared his throat, taking Steve's hand, "there's something that we need to talk about." Steve's eyes flickered down to his fiancé, and he sat slowly. Bucky propped himself up with one elbow on the tabletop, pretending to be interested in the wine list as Tony launched into his well-rehearsed speech. He held Steve's hand with a ferocious grip as he continued, but his face fell as Steve's face twisted down into a frown. "It would only be for...six months," Tony implored, glancing a bit unsure at Bucky. Steve caught wind of the look and turned his stormy blue gaze to the odd man out at the table, "and what do you think of all this?" Bucky waved his hand lightly, replying almost sassily, "I think you ought to listen to him, Stephen. It's his life too." Steve huffed, his gaze drawn back to Tony, who wholeheartedly begged the blond to comply with his plan. But Steve only got angrier and Bucky watched with sheer delight as the makings of his evil plot unfolded right before his very eyes. "It sounds like a great opportunity," Bucky chipped in, unfolding his napkin, laying it across his lap. Steve's eyes flung onto the raven-haired man, whipping sideways in his chair, "really? Then how come you never took some sell-out establishment job?" He didn't wait for Bucky to answer, "I'll tell ya what, cause that isn't you." His gaze snapped back to Tony, his voice raising, "and guess what, Tony, that isn't me either!" The fight boiled over like a pot of unattended water and Steve's rage reached his breaking point. He was just about full-fledged yelling at an emotionally compromised Tony, ranting about how this whole fight was about how Tony didn't find him, or evidently his choice of career, good enough. Bucky was giddy with joy, holding back a smile as he continued to watch. Steve wrenched his hand free of Tony's grip, throwing his napkin on the table as he stood when Tony grabbed his arm, crying out on the verge of tears, "no, Stephen no! You were so right! And I was so wrong! We've already settled this," he looked at Bucky, as if telling him this was all his fault, "it isn't fair. Just forget it ever happened, forgive me," he tugged Steve back into his chair rather abruptly. "Or I'll just die! Please!" Tony hung his head and Steve let out a breath, wrapping his arms around the brunet, "I'm sorry..." "I'm sorry too," Tony leaned into the blond's touch, and Steve pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Bucky's eyes widened just a little and his chair thudded forward, slamming him back into the realization that once again, he had failed to acquire the thing he wanted most; Steve. He was running out of time.

............................................................... Bucky pressed the phone to his ear, impatiently pushing unruly hair out of his face as he paced the length of his hotel room in a wife beater and some sweats. He dialed up the number again, and once again he was met with the the answering service. _"Clint, answer this dammit! I'm having a meltdown here!"_ Bucky's blasting voice cut through the darkness, and Clint groaned as he was dropped onto his back, the shadowy outline of another figure above him. They sucked a line down his neck, their hips snapping forward. Clint moaned as the headboard pounded against the wall. _"He double-crossed me, the little twerp double-crossed me! I am running out of time, I am coming to the end of my rapidly fraying rope!"_ He shoved some more hair back, pacing frantically. He felt sick to his stomach. His mind just kept reeling images of Tony all up in Steve's lap, touching his chest, their lips interlocked. "Clint, we've got to think of something!" The man on top of Clint smiled, slowing the thrusts of his hips and he pressed back some of the other's sweaty hair. "Want me to stop so that you can get that?" Clint hisses at the feel of the man's teeth digging into the flesh of his neck, "no, I know how to shut him up." He groped blindly for the phone, throwing the offending device to the floor. Bucky heard a beep, indicating that his call had been picked up, "Clint, I-" He heard Clint's voice on the other end of the line, but it wasn't entirely what he expected to hear. There was an obscene moan so loud that he held the phone away from his ear and pleading fits of _"more, harder, more."_ A disgusted look slithered across Bucky's face and his whole body cringed. His knuckles grew white as he gripped the phone tightly, "you fucking pig! I hope you die in a hole!" He promptly ended the call and whipped the phone across the room, honestly not caring if it broke. He sat down on the floor at the foot of the bed, knees to his chest, hands covering his face. This whole plan was stupid, he was being stupid! He should've just told Steve all those nights ago that he didn't think it was a good idea to come around and just stayed home. He could be there right now watching _Friends_ reruns in bed curled up with a bottle of vodka. He wiped roughly at his nose, digging the bottoms of his palms into his eyes as he pushed himself off the floor. He grabbed his discarded duffel and began jamming things into it. That was it. He was done. He wasn't cut out to be a best man. He wasn't doing a very good job anyway. He would just tell Steve tomorrow that he was resigning from the position, good luck with the wedding, arrivederci and all that bullshit. This was too much, he just couldn't do it anymore. He had never gotten over Steve, God, he still loved Steve. And that was the most painful fact of the matter; that he still loved Steve, but Steve didn't love him anymore. His hands were twisted into the clothes within his bag as he sunk down onto his knees, a little broken sound escaping him. The past few days he had felt like a dam with a swell of water behind it, and now it was all coming out. He was broken. Steve had broke him. ..................................…..........................


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky receives a surprising visitor who comes to his aid. Bucky's supposed to confess his true feelings to Steve, but he just can't do it. He receives some advice that he's not ready to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot better than the previous; I promise! It's probably the longsest one, and I put a lot of time into writing it, so I really hope you guys find it enjoyable! Hold onto your hats, because smut's coming up in the next chapter! :)

He must've collapsed unknowingly at some point during the night when he was roused from sleep by an insistent banging on the hotel room's door. He raised his head slowly from his prone position on the bed, looking around, confused. He reluctantly got up when the banging kept up and stepped without sure footing among the countless minibar bottles and wrappers. The armoire door slammed as he stumbled into it, raking a hand through his tangled bedhead. "I'm commin, Jesus," he muttered as he undid the chain and unbolted the door. He let out an almost elated squeal at the sight of the familiar man propped up against the doorframe. "Clint," he sighed, tossing his arms around the blond's neck. Clint took in the sight of his friend who looked to be in absolute shambles. He pressed his hand to the small of Bucky's back and guided him back into the room, shutting the door with one swipe of his hand. He snorted a bit, "what an ugly-ass room. What, daddy warbucks couldn't afford something fancier?" Bucky was walking ahead of Clint, stumbling along the way as he did. Clint nodded towards the open fridge, "death by minibar." "Oh quit givin me ya grief already!" Bucky snapped, turning on his heel to face the other man, his eyes dark and strands of hair making the left one completely. Bucky stalked to the bed and threw his duffel on top, stuffing more clothes inside as he took off his sweatpants and pulled on some jeans laying at the very top. He yanked a shirt over his head, that hunter green one that Steve used to like so much and practically started sobbing. He swatted the duffel off the bed, howling and cursing. He ran his hands through his hair, bunching it up at the top of his head. He turned to Clint, a crazed look in his eye, "he was in love with me every day for nine years! I can make him happier than he can! Why doesn't he see that!? Why won't he let me love him!?" Clint was standing afar, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, just assessing the situation, watching the raven argue with himself, tearing himself up. The dark haired man sat on the edge of the bed, lighting up a cigarette, taking a shaky drag. Clint crossed the room and sat down next to his friend. His voice was low, but sincere, "Buck. Do you really love him? Or is this just about winning? Seriously." Bucky's breath hitched and he dropped his head into his hands, the cigarette perched above his right ear. Clint removed it from between his fingers and put it out, taking the raven's hand within his own. He started up, on their verge of tears, a few hasty ones slipping down his cheeks, "of course I love him! I've _always_ loved him! Nine years, _nine_ , and I've never stopped! I can't _stand_ to see him with anyone _but_ me! All I want is for him to love me!" A wretched-sounding sob escaped him and his voice grew softer and softer, "me-of all people. I just want him to stay with me-and never go."

............................................................... Bucky had dialed up Steve's number with shaky hands while Clint rubbed a circle between his shoulder blades. He hadn't expected Steve to pick up, but he did. Bucky told him that they needed to talk. But Steve had to be at the tux shop today for his fitting. So Bucky scribbled down the address and ran down to the street to hail a cab. He was a shaking ball of nerves all the ride through. Clint told him that he needed to come clean with Steve, just put it all out there, cards up. And he wanted to, really wanted to. It was just that...he was afraid. He was afraid that it was really over, and once Steve told him that he didn't love him anymore, well...he didn't know what he was going to do. _Die, maybe._ He was frantically scouring the screen of his phone, absorbing all the information on WebMD about broken heart syndrome. Clint scowled and confiscated his phone. "You're not gunna die. Quit thinking like that. Just tell him how you feel." Bucky took a deep breath through the nose as he got out of the cab and walked up to the boutique, sticking Clint with the cab fare. Bucky spotted him almost instantly, standing in front of a trifold mirror, every reflection a prefect image of its owner. Steve had his arms out, telling the tailor about how he though the shoulders were too snug, and the tailor began making marks with chalk absentmindedly. Bucky wrung his hands as he hesitantly walked over. "Hey, Stevie. Um, I'm...I-" "You don't like it?" Bucky's eyes shot up, "what? Oh, um, the suit. Well, no not really, but that's not what I came here about." Steve cocked his head slightly, taking up the disposition of a golden retriever. "We...we've known each other a long time, what like twenty years?" Steve chuckled. Bucky shifted his weight, _why was this so hard to get out_? "Ok, well maybe not that long. But the point being its been a long time. Umm...Steve..." He suddenly turned a pointed look to the tailor, "would you excuse us?" Steve stepped down off the pedestal once the old man shuffled off, suddenly concerned. "James, what's wrong?" Bucky took a hissing breath. Steve never called him 'James' unless he was really worried. He placed his hand to his forehead, turning towards the window. "You can tell me anything," Steve assured, taking Bucky's arm. "You wouldn't understand! You'd think it was selfish!" His hands were on Steve's hips, trying to steady himself. There was an odd object in Steve's right pocket, and he fished it out. He swallowed thickly when Steve took the small box and opened it. There was a silver band with some scripture written on it inside. "Do you think he'll like it?" Bucky's heart sunk, and he stepped away, shrugging. There was a loud sound to their left and Bucky turned to see Clint standing a mannequin back up, trying to appear inconspicuous. Steve's eyes narrowed, "say, isn't that...Clint...your editor?" Something in Bucky's brain clicked, "oh yeah," he turned back to Steve. "What's he doing here?" Clint, who was standing afar couldn't hear most of the ongoing conversation, all he heard was "so all this-this has been about Clint?" Bucky nodded vigorously and Steve, who was outlandishly happy, came over and started congratulating Clint, shaking his hand with tremendous force. Clint looked from Steve to Bucky with confusion. He eyed Bucky who shrugged sheepishly, "I-I told him, puppy. I mean, if _we're engaged_ then we really shouldn't be ashamed of it." Clint is speechless, but his face says it all; there's an ass-whooping in store for Bucky. Steve kept looking between the pair, elated, but slightly confused. Bucky began rambling, taking one hand out of his pocket, "he's uh, flying back to Chicago soon. He just came here to...fuck me. Mhmm."

............................................................... They were following Steve down the street, a few steps behind. Clint's arm was slung over Bucky's shoulders. Steve glanced over his shoulder at the pair and Bucky gave him a huge grin that looked too big to be real. Steve gave a half smile and turned back. "What have I gotten into," Bucky said through clenched teeth to Clint. Clint's grip on his right shoulder tightened and he winced with pain, "oh only into hot water, _kitten_." Clint snarled at him, removing his arm, "blockhead." Steve hailed a cab and they all clambered in, sitting awkwardly with Bucky jammed up against Clint's side, the man's arm around him almost painfully tight. He nuzzles against Bucky's neck, nipping his earlobe hard enough to earn a surprised "ow!" Steve turned to look at them and just as Bucky asked, "something wrong?" he heard Clint's voice growling in his ear, "pull another stunt like that again, you're fucking dead." He pulled back cheerily, turning an attentive gaze to Steve. "Well, uh," Steve started uncomfortably, "nothing, actually." He started scratching the back of his neck, which Bucky knew for a fact was something he did when he was uncomfortable. Steve waved off the thought with his hand and turned to look out the window, drumming his fingers on the side of the cab door, popping his lips, "nope...nothing at all." Once Steve's gaze had disappeared Bucky gave Clint a good shove, mouthing "get off me" and turned to look longingly at Steve. Man, he really had a fucked up way of showing the blond man that he loved him. Because pretending that he was engaged was a great way. God, he was so stupid. The cab arrived at the church abruptly and Steve jumped out like his ass was on fire, almost before the cab had even halted. He was plowing ahead of the pair and Bucky lingered meekly by the doors of the church, afraid he might burst into flames or something if he entered. There was a loud squeal, too loud for Bucky's taste to be even remotely masculine. Tony came barreling down the aisle, tossing his arms around Clint. He was blabbering on about how he couldn't believe that _Bucky_ was getting married, "I was actually worried about you." Bucky wrinkled his nose, _"were you now?"_ Tony began insisting that they have a double wedding and Bucky thought his head might explode. _What the FUCK was happening?!_ Clint held up his hands, "now, now. That's not going to be necessary. You know what Bucky here said to me? He said let's not tell anyone about the engagement so no attention is taken away from Tony. Sweet little chocolate-covered Anthony." Had Bucky a gun and he might just have shot himself. Tony placed a hand to his chest, "you really said that? I think I might cry..." Bucky folded his arms, giving him an ugly smile. He was standing slightly behind Clint and kicked the back of his knee. Hard. "Fucker," he whispered, sniffling and wiping at his nose to cover the obscene word as the blond man gave him a nasty look. Pepper came running over, squealing just as much as Tony about the 'engagement' that they sounded like a pair of pigs on a fucking farm. She insisted that Clint stayed for lunch. "Nonononono," Bucky lunged forward, almost blocking Clint with his arms, "absolutely-" Clint cut him off, stepping forward, dialing up the charm, "love to." He took Pepper's hand and kissed it gently. Bucky could have sworn he threw up in his mouth a little. Bucky's tone was clipped, laced with panic, "darling...uh...what about you _flight_?" Clint smiled, looping an arm around Bucky's waist, a dastardly smile spreading across his face, "cancelled."

............................................................... Lunch turned out to be at one of the most expensive seafood restaurants that New York had to offer. Most of the wedding party was there and Bucky wished that he could just crawl underneath the table and die. He kept fiddling with his silverware, he was so uncomfortable. Clint was next to him and Steve across the table. Tony started telling Bucky how worried about him he had been, "well, from what Steve told me, all those broken relationships. It must have hurt so much going through all those men and never finding love." Bucky's eyes shot up, his fork clattering against the plate. " _Really? Steve_ told you that?" Maybe he had never found the right man because he had never moved on. "And all the while the man of your dreams is right in front of you." Tony laughed, snuggling against Steve's shoulder and Bucky sucked in a breath, rolling his eyes. He had to use every ounce of quickly receding willpower not to climb over that table and scratch the brunet's eyes out with the end of a spoon. He found his eyes trained on Steve, their gazes locking for a moment. Even if it was only a second, it felt like time stood still. A hard clap on his shoulder snapped him out of his daze. "He's taking about me," Clint snarled through a smile. Bucky looked back down at his food, twirling the salad with his fork. "Clint," Pepper started. "Yes darling?" Clint really was laying it on a bit thick. "How did you and James meet?" Pepper took a bite of her halibut. Remembering what Clint had said in the cab, Bucky suddenly sprang to life, his hand slapping against Clint's chest, cutting in, trying to stop this madness before it went any further, "Clint is my editor." He nodded satisfactorily, hoping to leave the matter at that. But Clint wouldn't have it. He was hellbent on embarrassing Bucky even further as if to get even for the stupidity of this entire charade. "Oh, but pookie. We met a long time before that," he opened up to the table, "actually, it's a very romantic story. Would you like me to tell it, sweet pea?" He twisted the end of Bucky's hair around a finger. Buck dug his fingers into Clint's thigh under the table. Steve was looking on at the two, a scowl on his face. "No, _it's private_." Bucky growled, looking directly into Clint's face, almost nose to nose. Clint turned in his chair to face the rest of the table members, "well, not anymore. I first met James-" he rubbed his hands together, scoffing with disbelief, "in a mental institution." All the other table members fell silent for a beat, staring on with their own disbelief. "I don't believe this," Bucky muttered, shading his eyes with his hand, looking down at his shoes. Clint continued, eager to humiliate the raven even further, "James was there to see some French chef he'd sent insane with a bad review and I was visiting Dionne Warwick." Pepper leaned forward, "Dionne Warwick?" Clint waved his hand, "well, she thought she was Dionne Warwick." It was Steve's turn to lean forward, "who's Dionne Warwick?" Tony smacked his chest, offended that he didn't know this trivial bit of information and Wanda looked down at him, stating matter-of-factly, "she's Whitney Houston's aunt." The twins began a high-pitched rendition of one of the songs, which Clint joined, and Bucky cringed, he thought the glasses at the table were going to break. They all laughed, Tony included. They thought it was the funniest fucking thing in the world. Steve looked at Bucky. Neither of them were laughing. Clint's laugher dissipated, and he picked up where he left off, "so there I was with Dionne, who's real name is Jerry by the way, having one helluva singsong when suddenly there he was. Breezing through the doors from the electroshock therapy room, a vision in pink." Steve snorted, almost choking on his water, " _pink?! You_ don't wear _pink_." Clint laughed, clapping Bucky on the back, "he does, Stephen. He does." He spoke a little more pointedly, "sometimes he does wear pink." _"Clint,"_ Bucky almost whined. He lifted his gaze to Steve, speaking quietly, "sometimes I...wear pink." With that out of the way, Clint continued, "so I said to myself, who is this vision? _Qu'est que cette vision?_ Surely he must be the understudy to some fabulous Broadway star, I mean look at his skin!" He gestured to Bucky's face, who swatted the other's hand away, " _quit that_. I'm not _glowing_ and I don't _sing_." Clint was unfazed, "and in that moment, I knew-" Bucky grabbed Clint by the wrist, pulling his hand down. "Ok, we don't all need to know." The crowd of anxious table mates disagreed. Steve, who was leaning back in his chair spoke dryly, "I'm very curious." Clint snickered, "I knew that someday we'd end up like this. And I said to Dionne, _'Dionne, I'm in love.'_ Can this siren love me? Are the gods that kind?" He brushed back some stray hair of Bucky's and Steve bristled, leaning his elbows onto the table. "And Dionne turned to me, opened her lovely eyes and said-" he stopped. Everyone at the table held their breath before Pietro broke the silence, "what'd she say?" Clint smirked at Bucky with the corner of his mouth, pushing his nose into Buck's neck like a cat, _"the moment I wake up,"_ Bucky scoffed, shoving Clint away as he broke into a not half bad version of _"Say a Little Prayer."_ Pepper joined in, then the twins, and soon everyone in the whole god dammed restaurant was singing and clapping along. Bucky shrunk back in his chair, wishing he could disappear. Steve looked at Bucky, something new flickering behind his eyes. Clint buried his face against Bucky's neck, still singing, _"oh darling believe me, there is no one but you, please love me too."_ Steve looked increasingly unamused as the song went on and got up and left by the end. And Bucky just sat there.

............................................................... Bucky was silent all the way as he walked Clint from the car to the doors of the airport. Clint, however, was yammering on about his little theatre charade, and Bucky finally spoke, unamused, " _alright_ you've made your point. Now go get on your plane and I will call you at the turn of the century when I forgive you." Clint pouted, "oh Buck." Bucky jammed his hands in his pockets, looking down at the pavement. "Tell him you love him. Bite the bullet." Clint patted him on the back before he walked off towards the doors to the airport. "Clint!" Bucky cried out and the other man reappeared, turning and waking back. "What will he do?" Bucky looked at Clint, unsure. Clint stood in front of him, a hand on each one of his shoulders, " _you'll_ kiss him goodbye and go home. That's what you came here to do. So do it." ...............................................................


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky decides that it's time to come clean with Steve and confess the truth; that he's in love with him. He can only hope that Steve won't hate him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much to all of you out there who have stuck with this story thus far, I'm so glad you're finding it enjoyable! It's honestly my favorite story that I've written! :) Anywho, here's that update I promised, all betaed and shined up for your reading pleasure! It does have a sex scene in the second section, nothing unsual in that, but if you'd rather not read it just skip to the very end. I think you'll wanna read that part at least ;) I had a really difficult time writing this chapter, so I hope you guys find it enjoyable! And now...on with the sexy times! P.S. In case you wanted to know I wrote this chapter to X Ambassador's "Unsteady." Just so ya know.

Once he had seen Clint into the airport, Bucky had slowly trekked back to the car. He slid into the passenger seat and Steve turned to look at him. The blond's hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly and there was something about the way that he was looking at Bucky that the raven didn't like. He took a deep breath, it was now or never. "Steve...I-I, um...look-Clint's not my fiancé. I...I lied. Ok? I fucked up. I'm sorry, it was stupid, and I was wrong to do it and now you can hate me all you want and that'll be fine because I've been a horrible friend..." He sniffled slightly. "Goddammit, Steve, I was...I was just so angry...seeing you with him..." Steve started talking, his voice soft, "I've gotta tell you, when you told me that you were marrying Clint...I got this really strange um..." He laughed slightly, but his hands tightened fiercely around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. Bucky started, uncertainly, "you were _jealous_?" He stared at Steve in disbelief, his eyes wide as the blond turned and nodded, _"crazy jealous."_ Bucky sat back in the seat, unable to form words. Steve was...jealous? Did that mean...? A little sound escaped him, he sounded like a dying animal. And then there were tears pouring down his cheeks and he looked ugly, with his mouth twisted down in a frown and his shoulders shaking. Steve's eyes looked him up and down, scouting for obvious injury. But it was something he couldn't see. "No, no, Buck, please don't cry. It's ok, it's ok." Steve pushed back some of his hair, wiping at his cheeks with his thumb. And suddenly, he had cupped his hand behind Bucky's left ear, and leaned forward, pressing his lips against the other's. Bucky took a gasping breath. Steve was... _kissing him. Kissing him!_ Steve turned his lips to Bucky's jawline, gently pressing soft, warm kisses to the structured bone. He pulled the dark-haired man over the consul and into his lap. "I just want you close," he whispered into Bucky's ear. Steve had threaded his fingers through his hair, pulling at the collar of his shirt so that he could tease at the soft skin of Bucky's neck. He didn't know how to feel, but he rolled his neck in the opposite direction, giving Steve more room. "I've missed you..." Bucky whispered.

"I've-I've been thinking a lot the last couple of days," Steve's words were just as soft, "'bout us I mean." "Have you?" Bucky's response was breathless as Steve's hands trailed down his sculpted chest and rested tentatively on his hips. Steve nodded, and Bucky worked a hand around Steve's back, "well, there's a lot of memories to choose from I guess." "It's more than that," Steve interjected, "it's kinda embarrassing to say it this way...you've sorta been...the man in my life." Bucky pulled back, looking sadly into Steve's blues, "you've been the man in mine." "I don't wanna give you up," Steve whispered huskily. He nipped at the sensitive flesh under Bucky's jaw. Bucky moaned a little, _"I love you."_ Steve's head snapped up, "what?" "I love you Steve. I have to tell you now otherwise I'll have a massive coronary. Stephen, _I_ love you, I've always loved you. I loved you for nine years. I've...I've just been too arrogant and scared to realize it. And now...I'm just scared so I-I realize this comes at a very inopportune time but...uh...I have this gigantic favor to ask of you." He grabbed Steve's hand, staring into his eyes imploringly, " _choose me._ Marry me. Let me make you happy." He pressed Steve's hand to his thrumming heartbeat, "feel that? _I'm still here_. Don't let me go. Please." Steve took Bucky's hand and gently pressed his lips to the ridges of his knuckles, then folded the palm flat against his own heartbeat. Then he leaned in, his other arm around Bucky's neck, lip to lip, their tongues dancing, remembering the taste of each other again. Steve's heart was pounding under Bucky's hand, and the blond pulled back, his whisper hot against the shell of the raven's ear, "I _never_ stopped loving you."

...............................................................

Steve threw Bucky up against the door of the other's hotel room, kissing him ferociously, his hands tangled in dark hair. Bucky shoved a hand in his pocket, searching desperately for his card key, turning Steve's back to the door, pushing the blond flush against it, his own obvious intrigue showing as a hard line in the front of his jeans. He jammed the key into the card reader, never taking a hand off Steve. The door snapped open and the pair almost fell as they stumbled, digging fingers into backs and yanking on shirts. Bucky kicked the door shut roughly with the sole of his shoe and stood in front of Steve, slowly undoing the catch of the blond's jacket and easing it off his broad shoulders. Steve's hand slipped behind his ear, brushing through his hair and down his neck. Bucky shuddered underneath the touch. He hadn't touched Steve in so long, it felt like his skin was on fire. He flushed like a furnace, a hot, red blush creeping over his neck and face. Steve was a full body flusher; Bucky could almost imagine what his milky skin looked like underneath those clothes. So warm...strawberry colored... But he wouldn't have to _imagine_ for long. Steve rocked his hips forward, his erection hard and pressing desperately against the fly of his slacks. Bucky pushed Steve back through the sitting room onto the bed. "I've missed this," he confessed to the blond. Towering over Steve, Bucky felt like he was in the middle of a timeless dream. He wanted Steve, _really_ wanted him. But...he was afraid. They hadn't slept together in _nine years._ What if Steve didn't like it? Didn't like him. What if he only popped a boner because he wasn't getting any from the missus and all it took was a little stimulus? He sat back onto his knees, running his hands through his hair. "Bucky? What is it?" Steve propped himself up on his elbows. Bucky shrugged, "nothing...just nerves I guess." Steve sat all the way up and ran his hands down from Bucky's shoulders to his hip bones, stroking the protruding masses with the pads of his thumbs. Steve moved his hands to undo a couple of buttons on Bucky's shirt, running his hands beneath the fabric, circling with the tips of his fingers. He pressed light, soft kisses to Bucky's sternum, then licked at his collar bone, planting a hot kiss in the divot of his throat. He worked his mouth along the junction between his friend's left shoulder and his neck. "Remember that time when we were at camp?" He whispered. Bucky dropped his head back, nodding, "when we stole that canoe and I thought we were gonna tip we were fucking so hard." Steve let out a breathy little laugh, "you looked so beautiful...in that low summer sun...I knew I loved you then..." Bucky relaxed a little in the blond's touch, remembering the feel of the sun, the rock of the boat, the sound of Steve loving him.

_"Let me love you now."_ Steve's words are as soft as his caresses as he opens Bucky's shirt the rest of the way and lays him down onto his back. The dark-haired man clenches and unclenches his fists, fidgeting. "You're ok," Steve's voice is like a soft summer breeze, "it's just you and me..." He places soft kisses all the way down Bucky's newly exposed chest, taking time to reward every mole or muscular ridge with the wrapping of his full, pink lips. Bucky's breath hitched when he felt Steve's hand brush over the close on his jeans. Steve looked up, his eyes big and blue and full of concern. He brushed a hand against Bucky's cheek. "You ok?" Bucky's lower lip quivered and he looked off to the side. "Hey, it's ok..." Steve smoothed a hand over Bucky's chest, "we don't gotta do anything." He folded himself up the best he could next to Bucky, turning the other onto his side, tucking him in close. Bucky winced when he got a knee to the crotch. "Sorry," Steve cringed. "Remember when you used to be _small_?" Steve laughed, "but not _everything_ was small." He gave Bucky a wry smile, and they both laughed. Steve took up his hand, gently lacing their fingers together, playing with Bucky's wrist. "It's just," he started and suddenly he had Steve's full attention, "I've wanted this for so long..." "It's ok," Steve brushed his lips against his cheek, holding him just a little tighter. _"I want you,"_ he whimpered. Steve hushed him with a kiss. "I know you do." He kissed a trail from Bucky's lips down his throat, down his chest. Bucky dropped his head back, his breath hitching, short pants escaping him. A smile tweaked the corner of Steve's mouth. _"I'll take good care of you baby."_ Bucky panted more audibly at the pet name. Steve circled his navel with the tip of his tongue, sliding his lips down, kissing at the dark hair just above the waist of Buck's jeans. He pressed a kiss to Bucky's clothed erection, exerting just enough pressure to obtain a response. Steve opened Bucky's jeans, slowly sliding them off his legs, running his hands down the toned muscles, kissing from toe to hip. His hands and lips still knew their way around. Bucky tipped his head to the side, whimpering when Steve surpassed the tent in his boxers. "It's ok, babydoll. I'll make you feel all better." Steve dropped down close, kissing and nipping along the structure of Bucky's jawline. Bucky's fingers found their way into Steve's hair, and he rocked his neck forward to obtain a straining kiss.

Steve felt...good. Right. Familiar. His hands slipped to the hem of the blond's shirt, and he pulled it up sharply, marveling at the curves and dips of perfectly toned muscles. He buried his face in the crook of Steve's neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive flesh, scraping his teeth along some day-old stubble. He felt Steve shudder. _"I've missed this too,"_ he whispered into Bucky's hair, pulling the other's arms out of his undone shirt. He pressed a series of gentle kisses to the cup of Bucky's left shoulder, wrapping his lips around the curve of bone. His kisses met every intricate detail of Buck's tattoo. Shaky breaths left Bucky as Steve moved back to throw his pants on the floor, rolling down his brief-clad hips against the other's. The raven gave a little breathy sigh to illustrate his interest in the gesture. Steve pulled part of Bucky's boxers out of the way and surrounded the jutting hip bone with the warmth of his mouth. He had a hand gripping Bucky's waist tightly and Bucky reached out and covered it with his own. _"Hold onto me,"_ he whispered. The blond gave a little smile, climbing back up Bucky's body to claim his lips in a warm, wet kiss. "You ready for this?" Steve asked, his eyes full of sincerity, locked with Bucky's. He felt muscles flutter underneath his hand, and gently stroked the dark-haired man's cheek. Bucky nodded, "as long as it's with you." Steve sighed; a sound of loving and longing. "Do you have any..." Bucky pointed to the leather duffel on the chair by the window, "inside pocket. The one with the zipper." Steve returned quickly with a purple foil packet between his teeth and a little bottle of lube. "You came prepared, huh?" Steve smirked and a deep blush filled Bucky's cheeks, "those were already in there..." he muttered. Steve gave him an affectionate smile, tracing little patters into his thigh. For a moment, there was no sound; just their breaths filling the space. Steve's hands moved to the waist of his briefs, but Bucky scootched forward, gently hooking his fingers over the edges. His tongue was at the corner of his mouth as he pulled the garment away, and Steve looked at him with a hungry curiosity, his eyes darkening with every inch the fabric was peeled away. His cock bounced sharply against his stomach as the fabric slipped away and he kicked it away, sliding Bucky's boxers down his thighs, pulling them off his feet. He kissed the tops of the raven's feet, looking at him with adoration. Bucky's heart was pounding. He watched Steve rip the foil packet open with his teeth and slide the latex up his engorged member. Steve moved between his legs, placing featherlight touches along Bucky's dick, watching the way the other man moaned and squirmed. He placed a tender kiss to the head, running his hand up and down the shaft for a moment. He turned his gaze to Bucky's; dark, with the pupil overtaking all the color. Both of their blue gazes were swarming with inky blackness. Bucky's mouth was slightly agape, making his panting audible. Steve kissed up from the wiry patch of hair below the navel all the way to Bucky's lips, swallowing down a moan.

_"I love you,"_ Bucky breathed between kisses. Steve moved back down between Bucky's legs, patting his thighs, encouraging him to spread. Bucky obeyed, opening his legs in a 'v,' bracing his arms behind his head. Steve pulled Bucky's legs up, so that they were bent at the knees. He coated his fingers with lube and bent forward, kissing Bucky's lips as he slowly slid one finger in up to the second knuckle. Bucky always did open up nice for him. He slid in a second, teasing the perineum with his little finger. Bucky moaned, thrusting his hips forward, dropping his head between his arms. _"S-Steve..."_ The blond slid in a third finger, stretching and expanding the ring of pert muscles before him, "I gotcha, babydoll. It's gonna be ok." Bucky whimpered, his dick twitching with interest at the pet name. _"Please, Stevie, please."_ Steve knew that voice. He knew it _very_ well. He withdrew his fingers, accompanied by a whine from Bucky, and wiped them on the bedsheets. He anchored a hand at the raven's left hip, taking his right leg over his own shoulder. Bucky gave his head a nod, "I trust you." Steve used his free hand to guide the head of his cock to Bucky's entrance, then pushed forward carefully. Bucky hissed, his hand clamping down over Steve's. "You feel so good," Steve moaned, pulling out a little and driving back forward. Steve bottomed out, then withdrew so that just the tip of his dick was hanging inside. Bucky tugged Steve forward on the next thrust, kissing him messily, biting on his lower lip. Steve's grip tightened on his hip, but the other came up to cup his face. 

_"I've wanted this so bad...from the first moment I saw you at the airport. And after you said you were marrying Clint...I was so jealous. I wanted you more than just once. To hold you in my arms and call you mine...."_ He gave a spastic thrust, their bodies quivering together. Steve dropped his hand to Bucky's needy cock, stroking up and down its length in time with his thrusts. Bucky let out a brutal-sounding moan, threading his fingers in the short hairs at the base of Steve's neck, giving a firm tug. He released one hand to run it up and down the rigid plane of Steve's back. He could feel the corded fibers of muscles sliding back and forth underneath his hand as Steve snapped his hips forward. His lips went to the blond's broad shoulders, and he sucked a reddish welt into the meat of the right one, branding Steve with his love. Bucky inhaled sharply as Steve faltered, feeling a tightness in his balls. Heat coiled in the pit of his stomach and he clawed his fingers around Steve's shoulder. "Steve...oh god..." Steve dropped his head to Bucky's shoulder, his rhythm faltering as Bucky came, ribbons of creamy white tying themselves around his arm and waist. He bit into the flesh between Bucky's neck and shoulder, taking the inked skin between his lips. He let Bucky's leg fall from his shoulder, pulling the other man as close as possible, pulling his back up off the mattress. He held tight to Bucky as he came. It was a quiet release, save for four words, _"I love you too."_ ...............................................................


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were finally turning around; Steve loved him. He had said so. Bucky was so excited to start planning their future together. But maybe some things just aren't meant to be.

Bucky woke up the next morning, rolling onto his side, squinting against the light. He blindly reached a hand out for Steve. _"Stevie.."_ he muttered. But there wasn't an equally breathy reply of _"Bucky."_ He opened his eyes. Steve wasn't there. Maybe he was in the bathroom? But when Bucky looked over the side of the bed, Steve's clothes were gone. _What the hell?_ He raked a hand through his hair. He didn't understand.

There was a buzzing coming from the bedside table and he grabbed his vibrating phone off it. There was a text.

_Hey sleepyhead. Sorry to just bail out on you like that, but there's this big breakfast this morning, and...I want to break things off with Tony before the wedding. It's gonna be short notice: the wedding's today after all...ha...but I've made up my mind. And my mind says you. I love you Buck. Meet me at 10:30 under the gazebo. Oh by the way, happy birthday. -Steve_

Wait. What? He scoured the screen again, gripping his phone with two hands as his eyes darted back and forth, reading the words on the white screen. His mouth slowly fell open. He fell onto his back, kicking his feet in the air, laughing like an idiot. He couldn't get that stupid smile off his face as he collected some clothes from his duffel and made his way into the bathroom to take a shower. He was on top of the world. Things were _finally_ turning around. Fuck Clint and his stupid advice. He was gonna get the guy one way or another. He sighed, taking a deep breath. He couldn't wait to see Steve, to cover those plush pink lips with his own, to feel the wetness of the other's tongue gliding over his own.

He looked down at his watch as he draped a towel around his waist. _9:45._ It wouldn't take more than fifteen minutes to get to the Stark property if he beat traffic. That would be plenty of time. He hastily got dressed and glanced in the mirror at his appearance. His hair was combed back, there was a tie around his neck. He looked...good. Handsome. Perfect for sweeping Steve off his feet. He shoved his phone into his pocket as he exited the hotel room with a spring in his step and a song on his lips. ...............................................................

He parked the rental on the overcrowded lawn and got out. It looked like half the god damn city was here to have brunch. Bucky took a deep breath, running a hand over his hair again. The gazebo was a little ways in the distance, cloaked in shade by massive weeping willows. He smiled a little, thinking about how Steve would hold him in his arms and tell him how much he loved him. He would be Steve's. And he wanted it no other way.

He was right on time as he neared the wooden structure. And he heard fighting. It was too muffled to hear, but when he passed by a branch of a tree that was blocking his view, he stopped dead in his tacks. His breath hitched, lodging in his throat. He felt numb. Tony had an arm around Steve's waist, their mouths enveloping each other. Bucky couldn't believe this. He felt a whirlwind of emotions hit him all at once and he stumbled, a tree branch snapping. Steve pushed Tony back at the noise and saw Bucky staring at him with the most crestfallen look he had ever seen on the man's face before. Bucky took a gulping breath before he turned on his heel and took off running.

"Oh-Bucky!" Steve's yell was far behind him, along with a clattering noise as the blond shoved Tony aside and took off down the path after Bucky. The raven ran faster than he had ever in his life. He felt used and disgusting. He hated himself. He hated himself for loving Steve. He tugged at the knot of his tie, desperate to loosen it. He couldn't breathe. All he could do was see them. _"Bucky!"_ Steve wasn't too far off. He could hear the blond racing after him.

He clawed at his eyes, wiping roughly at the tears with the backs of his hands. He didn't care that Steve was running after him. Fuck it. Fuck all of it! He didn't want him anymore. He didn't want anything. _"Stephen!"_ He heard Tony's anguished cry tearing him up inside. _"Bucky!"_ Steve's cry was even louder. Bucky's heart slammed against his ribcage as he skittered around the corner, his feet sliding in the mulch. He pressed a hand down to regain his balance as he tore off across the lawn, his hair getting all wind blown, pieces flying around his face. His tie licked at his shoulder, his unbuttoned jacked flapped in the wind.

_"Stephen!" "Bucky!" "Stephen!" "Bucky!"_ Bucky banked to the left, racing up toward the terrace. He pulled himself up over the wall, weaving in between the waiters and their fancy silver platters. He plowed one down and didn't even apologize. Steve vaulted over the wall, racing after him. _"Stephen!" "Bucky!"_ He rushed past Pepper's table, Steve almost taking it out as he caught up to the dark-haired man. Pepper casually sipped her tea. "That's our best man. He's from Chicago."

The other women at the table stared after the pair, and then Tony who ran past the table. Bucky stumbled on the cobblestones as he ran, tripping and falling. He tore a hole on the knee of his right pant leg and scraped up his palms. Steve rushed up behind him and Bucky's eyes were wide and scared as he shoved the other man away, running out onto the front lawn, searching frantically for his car. He jammed the key into the ignition and tore off down the driveway, his tires squealing. Bucky took a breath through his tears, grabbing his phone and punching in a number. He glanced at his phone, then glanced at the road, veering sharply into the next lane to avoid being broadsided.

...........................................................

Clint heard a phone ringing sharply in the middle of the book reading and noticed several dirty looks from nearby listeners directed right at him. He looked down and grabbed his phone, walking into the back rows of books to answer. His voice was clipped and annoyed as he picked up, "yes?" The voice on the other end of the line belonged to a screaming, almost sobbing Bucky. People turned in their chairs at the sound of the voice.

_"IT IS NOT GOING WELL! THIS IS WHAT COMES OF TELLING THE TRUTH!"_ Clint cleared his throat, turning further into the bookshelf to avoid the piercing glares, _"OR EVEN PART OF IT!"_ Clint sighed, rubbing his brow. "Where are you?" There was screeching and cursing on the other end of the line. _"FUCK! GOD DAMMIT! I'M DRIVING LIKE A COMPLETE FUCKING MANIAC DOWN 21ST STREET AND STEVE IS CHASING ME LIKE THE ANNOYING LITTLE SHIT THAT HE IS!"_ Clint was taking a moment to comprehend all of this. _"CLINT! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! I-I TOLD HIM THE TRUTH! I TOLD HIM THAT I LOVED HIM. AND-AND I KISSSD HIM!"_

Clint took a moment to interject, "Buck a question; when you kissed Stephen, did he kiss you back?" _"ARE YOU SERIOUS?! THAT'S YOUR BIG QUESTION?! I WOULDN'T BE IN THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW IF HE DIDN'T KISS ME BACK. HE BENT ME OVER THE TABLE AND THEN PROFESSED HIS LOVE FOR ME! ARE YOU HAPPY, CLINT?!"_

Bucky threw the phone into the passenger seat and skidded around the corner. He whipped through traffic and into the parking lot of Central Park and barely shut the car door as he took off. The grass crunched under his polished dress shoes and his car keys jangled as they dangled from his clenched fist. His mind was still reeling, every image flashing behind his eyes. He could feel Steve's touch burning into his skin, felt his asphyxiating kisses on his lips and neck.

_"Bucky!"_ Steve was gaining on him. He didn't want to hear whatever he had to say. He didn't want to hear some half-assed, bullshit spiel about how he was sorry. Because _sorry_ didn't mean a _goddamn_ thing. He found an empty men's room, the door clanging loudly against the latch. He faced the row of sinks, beating his fists down against one as a mangled cry clawed its way through his clenched teeth. He heard the door squeal open and whipped around to tell whoever it was to _go the hell away_.

Steve was leaning against the closed door, his hand flicking the lock. _"Bucky..."_ he breathed. He raven's fists tightened, his jugular pressing out against the flesh of his neck. "How _dare_ you call me that!" He swung a fist at Steve who dodged and Bucky's hand collided with the solid door. His knuckles split and oozed fresh blood, but he clearly wasn't bothered. "Bucky," Steve reached out to touch the other man's shoulder when he was roughly shoved away.

"Don't touch me! _Don't ever touch me! Not after what you did! Not with him!_ " Steve opened up his hands to the hysterical brunet, "I _never_ meant for that to happen! You have to believe me!" _"Why should I?!"_ Bucky spat, an animalistic look in his eye. Steve grabbed both of Bucky's wrists, _"because I love you, James!"_ Bucky shook his head, sweaty tendrils swaying back and forth. "No you don't!" His voice was meek but cut like a knife.

_"Yes I do!"_ Steve wouldn't let go, if anything, his grip tightened. "And you love me too!" Bucky's eyes flickered up to meet the blond's for a moment before he shoved Steve back, _"no I don't!"_ Steve hit the wall, and stumbled, trying to reclaim his balance. "I know you do!" Steve was relentless. "I made love to you, showed you how much I care." _"Shut up!"_ Bucky's voice was a high screech as he clipped the side of Steve's face with his fist.

Steve stooped, assessing the injury. But he stood, spreading his arms. "Y'wanna hit me? G'head. Hit me if it'll make ya feel better! But _how I feel_ is never gonna change!" Bucky's arm quivered as he held the muscles in recoil. But he never threw a punch as he watched the blood dribble over Steve's lip. A frightened, strangled sound escaped him and he lunged for the door, ripping it open.

He couldn't hear any sound except his heartbeat pounding in his ears. All he could see was Steve overtop his body, withering with pleasure, his hips stuttering, his lips mouthing his name. Everything was fuzzy and blurry as he raced towards the street. It was like his brain couldn't assess the traffic around him, the danger that he faced. It was like looking through a television that was cutting out. Short, spastic bursts of vision broke across his wide eyes.

Just enough to see the yellow cab pulsing dangerously close. He never saw it coming. Never heard people yelling at him to look out. Never felt the pain of the vehicle colliding with his left side. Never felt the pavement come up to meet him. All he could hear was a loud, terrified shout of his name. And the last thing he saw before the lights went out was Steve racing to his side. _"Bucky!"_

...............................................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue the dramatic music* Hi guys! I'm sorry that I haven't posted an update in a while, but life's been busy. I had a lot going on, including graduation. But here's the next chapter yay! I know, I know, a cliffhanger, but hey, I had to spice things up. ;) Anywho, I'm thinking that there's only going to be one more full chapter to this fic and maybe an epilogue if I can think of what to write and then it'll be done! I'd just like to say a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story until this point. I truly appreciate it! Xo-PF


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is a mess in the aftermath of the accident. He won't leave Bucky's side. And he's made up his mind. He wants Bucky. Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Well, holy crap! I haven't updated this story in, what, like a year? Yikes. I am SO sorry!! I have a tendency to get side-tracked. Thank you to everyone who had stuck with this little story for so long, I know it might be crappy and old, but it's the first long thing I had ever written. So thank you, again. This is it, guys. Next chapter will be the epilogue. Lots of love to all of you. <3 PF

Steve stood still, it felt like time had stopped. His heart dropped into his stomach. He ran out into the road, pulling Bucky into his arms.

“Bucky? Buck? C’mon, c’mon. Talk to me, baby.”

He gently shook the other’s form, receiving no response. Bucky’s left arm hung limply against the pavement, and at an odd angle. He was covered in cuts and contusions, a stipe of angry crimson staining the side of his shirt.

Steve couldn’t hear when he saw the other’s body laying in the road. He couldn’t feel the hand on his shoulder, asking him if everything was ok. And he couldn’t breathe when he saw the blood all over his best friend’s body.

The cab driver ran from his car, stooping next to Steve.

_“I didn’t even see him! He just ran out into traffic!”_

Steve wasn’t paying much attention. One hand was pressed to Bucky’s abdomen, trying to halt the flow of blood. The other was cradling his upper body, the raven’s head lolling in his lap.

“Please…c’mon…open your eyes.”

_“I swear, I didn’t mean to hit him!”_

Steve grabbed ahold of the cab driver’s shirt, nearly growling.

“Call 911, ok?!”

The cabbie was skittering to his feet, grabbing the radio out of his car.

Steve tried to not let his emotions get the best of him as he anxiously awaited the paramedics.

He barely heard the sirens wailing as he focused on Bucky.

“C’mon baby, stay with me.”

The paramedics were moving through the crowd, pushing people aside, the kind Steve hated who only gawked at everything.

They were asking him questions. His words were detached, and he stuttered.

“He-he ran into the road.”

A small sob escaped him, bursting free from his chest.

He followed the paramedics as they loaded Bucky into the back of the ambulance.

He climbed into the back, grabbing onto the other’s hand. He wrapped both of his around it, disregarding the ropes of crimson snaking down his right one. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Bucky’s knuckles.

“Stay with me…stay with me, please.”

* * *

 

Bucky had coded in the back of the ambulance. _Twice_. It was the most terrifying moment of Steve’s life, watching his best friend’s body arch and jump with the force of the electric shock.

He was standing in the hospital waiting room, pacing back and forth, too anxious to sit. He had one hand across his stomach, the other near his mouth, drawing a knuckle between his lips.

It had been _hours._ He wasn’t tired. Wasn’t hungry. He just wanted to know how _he_ was.

The first person he had called was Tony. He was sobbing on the phone, a hand pressed to his forehead, pushing back blonde hair.

He could barely get a sentence out. It mostly consisted of “oh my god, oh my god, Bucky…Tony, please…help me…please…”

The other man was sitting in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, arms crossed over his chest, watching Steve pace.

_“Why don’t you sit down?”_

“Don’t want to.”

Steve replied, and kept on pacing.

Tony sighed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

_“Want me to get you something to eat? Want coffee or anything?”_

Steve shook his head. He paced back and forth, back and forth before sitting down in a chair across from Tony.

_“You really love him, don’t you?”_

Steve turned his blue eyes to the other’s brown ones.

“I-I ca-can’t…I _can’t_ ”

His voice broke on the last word, and he dropped his head into his hands. His shoulders shook with the force of the sob that choked its way out.

Tony dropped onto his knees next to Steve, rubbing his back.

_“It’s all gonna be ok. He’s gonna be ok.”_

Steve turned his face into Tony’s shoulder, wailing.

“No, it’s not…it’s not ok…it’s all my fault!”

_“Steve, please.”_

The blond sat up, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“I don’t wanna do this right now, ok?”

He wiped at his nose with the cuff of his shirt sleeve, snuffling. Tony sighed, standing.

_“Ok. Ok.”_

Steve kneaded his forehead with his hand, trying to take deep breaths.

All he could see was Bucky. The look on his face when they first saw each other that day in the suit shop. And the way he breathed while Steve was overtop him. And this smug fifteen-year-old who always had his back.

_God,_ it was _all_ his fault. He had gone and made a mess of things. Why did it take _something like this_ for him to realize that all he ever wanted was _Bucky?_

_“Mister Rogers?”_

The sound of his name being called pulled him from his haze.

“Yes?”

He stood unsteadily.

The doctor smiled, coming forward. She gently took Steve’s hand.

_“I’m doctor Palmer.”_

“H-how is he?”

Steve stammered, jamming his hands into the pockets of his pants.

The doctor sighed shakily, tucking a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

_“He’s stable…for now. It was touch and go for a while in there.”_

Steve uttered a silent prayer to the heavens.

_“He has multiple contusions and lacerations to the abdomen. He has two cracked ribs and a compound fracture of the left arm destroyed some nerve endings. This will be…a tough recovery for him if he pulls through. He lost a lot of blood, Mister Rogers.”_

“Can I see him?”

* * *

 

Dr. Palmer led him into the ICU, pulling back one of the curtains.

Steve choked on a sob, covering his mouth with his hand. Bucky was covered in blooms of bruises, some dried blood crusting here and there, his left arm was bandaged and splinted and everywhere tubes and wires were coming out of him.

Dr. Palmer left him alone to be with Bucky, telling him that if he needed anything, just ring the nurse.

Steve swallowed, slowly dragging the chair in the corner close to the side of the bed.

He sat there, staring at the other man.

“Buck…”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

He shakily reached across the bed and took Bucky’s hand. He brushed his lips across the structured joints.

Tears began welling up at the corners of his eyes again. His bottom lip quivered.

“Bucky…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry for everything…but I’m so in love with you, and I hope you know that I just want to stay with you, until both of us are old.”

His grip tightened around Bucky’s hand.

“Please…please just don’t leave me…we’ve come so far. Just a couple kids from Brooklyn…James…I’m not giving up on you…so don’t give up on me…”

His head drooped, tears sliding down his cheeks. He sniffled.

That was where he felt a small squeeze on his hand. His head jerked up.

Slowly, Bucky’s eyes opened, a bit dull and his one lid purple and bruised, but still, something stirred deep down in their depths.

He offered a small smile.

_“Don’t let go.”_

 


End file.
